


remora

by yusukewritesangst



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America Snaps (Hetalia), America being America (Hetalia), America is not the Hero (Hetalia), Dark America (Hetalia), Gen, Human & Country Names Used (Hetalia), I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm bad at life, I'm tired, Manifest Destiny America (Hetalia), Sad America (Hetalia), Somewhat Insane America (Hetalia), and then he improves, and they come back to him and he just..., anyway..., apparently there's now fish metaphors in the description..., basically that author wrote kinda the events before this but like, but better... well... depends on how you see it lol, but i can't find the original author who wrote this idea!, huh... that's new lol, i don't remember... i think it was on fanfiction.net, i meant the comments guys... i'm so sorry, i think goes manifest destiny???, idk mine kinda went a lil different, if any of you can find it, it's one where the countries basically isolate america to make him "improve" himself, like pay off his debts and etc, manifest destiny, okay so i didn't get this idea completely by myself, thank you Matthias_Joy_T for linking me the fic in the comments!, then link it to me in the description!!! i really wanna credit that author for this idea, wait why'd i say link the story in the description
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-09-27 16:11:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20410594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yusukewritesangst/pseuds/yusukewritesangst
Summary: He was just a fish, swimming upstream, managing to get by from ferrying himself off of the other larger, more strong fish, who had little to no problem going against life itself, swimming with the school while he was pushed out and out and out and down and back andAlfred was tired of it. He was a remora no more.





	1. raison d’être

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Manifest Destiny](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/517871) by Phoenix-Fire Power. 

> Aaaaaand, another fic has appeared! Out of the dredges of my Google Docs folder. Yes, it's not JAM, but I posted on the Discord server that both hebetude and I are going to be busy with school, what with AP classes and all, so we have a plan implemented so we have chapters in reserve to update when we're too busy, so once we get to the point of implementing that plan, we'll be posting chapters again for that story!
> 
> Anyway, I'll not bore you to death with details about another story. If you're here now, then you're here for Hetalia! As I've noted in the tags of this fic, I don't remember who I initially got this idea from, but it was a really really good fic, and I'd love to credit that author for this idea! If any of you come across that fic, please link it to me, I'd much appreciate it.

The clouds drifted by in the wind as the young man watched them idly through the thick, dirty glass of the airplane. The sky was as dull of a blue as ever, never truly bright unless one was lucky enough to see the sun and not be bitter about it. The world outside was as idyllic as could be, boring in its existence, unmotivated and lazy and something that needed to be  _ changed. _ And come Hell or high water, whether by ruin or profit, it would  _ be _ changed.

The young man was lost in his thoughts upon that matter, wondering about how to go about this change, who he should hit first, what would give him a tactical advantage…

But firstly, how could he make sure his mind wasn’t forcefully overridden and changed against his own personal beliefs.

For he was the United States of America, and his people did not believe in the Manifest Destiny anymore.

Oh, but he wasn’t for the Manifest Destiny of the old anymore… this was a newer,  _ better _ version of that… and all he had to do was convince his government—and thus, his Boss—that this was for the best, and the people would soon follow suit. Because the government was made for this sort of situation… when the personification of the nation didn’t agree with the people of that nation, the government was to step in and be the tie-breaker, thus causing the other party to follow through. In many cases, that meant that Alfred’s mind was dramatically shifted to fit that of his people’s—of  _ America’s. _

But not now, not this time. He was  _ done _ with being  _ used _ by the other nations—of being thrown away when he wasn’t raking in enough cash or credit for them, then being called back like nothing ever happened when his economy was stable once more— _ no. _ He was saying no more. They wanted to depend on him for only their personal gain?  _ Fine. _ They could do so— _ under him. _

But for now, back to his people. Oh, how he hated them sometimes… so divided, never agreeing on anything, knowing the problem yet still dancing around it all the time… sometimes he hated them—sometimes he hated himself. He was representative of them, although just barely, a whisper of their dream, of which principle he was founded upon in the eyes of his people… freedom. He was freedom, at his core. And he hated hated hated  _ hated _ being chained down by the other nations expectations, by their jibes and taunts and stereotypes, by their constant attempt at blackmail, by their abandoning him and using him for their own benefits—yes, America was quite fed up—

No,  _ Alfred F. Jones _ was fed up, not the United States of America. Therein laid the problem.

He just had to, had to, had to—to get to his government, to his Boss, and… tell them? No, no, no, he would have to  _ show _ them the benefits of this. The other nations had abandoned him, and he had fallen hard and fast due to that— _ Alfred _ had plummeted to rock bottom while  _ America _ had prospered, cleaning up his economy and making sure his nation was well and secure. Because the nations had abandoned  _ Alfred, _ not  _ America. _ Then they came crawling back—but Alfred would show his Boss— _ America’s _ Boss—how the other nations would abandon Amer—Al— _ them _ —the instant they showed any wavering. And… it would benefit everyone if they never left them, yes? The other nations would never be able to leave  _ AlfredAmerica _ again…

So he had to convince his Boss. Then his people would soon follow suit. For if the nation  _ and _ the government agreed, then the people had to comply, had to,  _ had to _ … they had to. They  _ needed _ to, he needed them to do this, please, please,  _ please _ … he couldn’t hate them anymore, he couldn’t hate himself, and if he succeeded in this,  _ nobody _ would hate him because what was there to hate about the one who provided you everything?  _ Everything _ would be America, but not everyone would be  _ Alfred, _ which was the beauty of it, so America could be pleased that he had conquered, but Alfred would be ecstatic that he wasn’t alone and that everyone would love him…

So. Manifest Destiny. In this day and age, no longer a God-given right, but instead a self-preservation tactic, and a benevolent one at that… if everyone was happy and united under the flag of freedom, there would be no more wars… right…?

America knew that there would always be wars—especially  _ Civil Wars _ that divided him up back into the original nations who would fight tooth and claw to break free, and he would never be trusted again, never, never, never ever  _ ever _ —but Alfred had deluded himself, had looking into the mirror and saw the past, the present, and the could-be  _ future _ and had fallen down this rabbit hole, desperately attempting to force America’s mind to change before America could change Alfred’s mind, so—

Alfred was only an individual founded on the principle of his nation, an individual who was prey to the emotions and tendencies of an individual being—while America was the collective whole of the nation, unbending to the whims of the individual, typically solid in the beliefs and wants of the majority. Alfred was, in general, easier to break than America. He donned the face of America most of the time, such as all nations did with their countries, hiding behind that name and pretending to not notice how much the insults and words hurt, trying not to show how he still had the feelings that only an individual could, clinging onto the last vestiges of America’s mind that he could feel. Follow the ritual that he hadn’t felt the need to in forever, ever since everyone decided that ignoring him was cool… but now everything was different. Everything was going to be  _ better _ now. He was… centering himself. Taking a deep breath, plastering on a fake smile, and—

“Hello, you’re talking to the Hero himself here!” Alfred chirped into his phone, blinking blearily at his surroundings in the airport, one hand on his suitcase, backpack hanging off his shoulder. When had he…?

“America, you twat,” Arthur’s voice came in crisply through the line, as neat and orderly as his clothes were folded by his maids and whatnot. Just as he remembered it. How long had it been since he had phoned Alfred, even just to complain? “You left your paperwork here! Blimey, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day! It’s already well past evening and I’m knackered! You’re lucky it hasn’t been nicked by—by anyone, or  _ France! _ ”

As his past caretaker yammered on and on into the phone for the first time in what felt like forever, Alfred just remained silent. It couldn’t be a coincidence… not now. Kiku inviting him to play a horror game… Matthew talking to him and not  _ ignoring _ him… and now,  _ Arthur calling him? _ Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but thrice?

Enemy action.

“America?” his used-to-be older brother interrupted his thoughts, sounding vaguely concerned about something or another. “You aren’t normally this quiet. What’s wrong?”

Oh.

This… this  _ bint. _ Asking  _ Alfred. _ Why he was  _ quiet _ when this was the first time Arthur had called him in—in…  _ months! _

Alfred took a deep breath to calm his angry nerves. He slid down into the lone chair in the corner, readjusting Texas on the bridge of his nose as the glasses made like they were trying to escape from this conversation.  _ Too bad. _ If he had to sit through this, Texas had to as well.

“I’m fine,  _ Artie, _ ” Alfred practically spat out the previously-affectionate nickname as if it were the other nation’s scones on his tongue. Well… that wasn’t really persuasive, was it…? Oh well. He went down this path, he may as well continue. “Perfectly  _ ecstatic, _ really. Not that  _ you _ would know, would you? Oh, or  _ anyone else _ either. Wonderful friends, huh? Being thrown away like a used tissue when I’m of no use, only to be expected to crawl back whenever y’all decide to let me back into your  _ graces? _ You’re even more of an idiot if you expect me to do that. I’m disappointed in you, Arthur.”

By this point, a few people were looking over at Alfred concernedly, most of them his citizens. He felt himself softening due to their concern despite himself, but he kept up his anger and hurt toward Arthur and the rest of the nations. Even if he couldn’t depend on anyone else, he really could depend on himself, huh? His citizens were honestly the  _ best. _

“Wh-wha—America—” Arthur spluttered incoherently as a young woman decided to walk up to Alfred, pulling up a chair next to him as she looked at him, concern evident on her face.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” she asked him, her eyes peering into his as if they were trying to pry all his problems away and leave him in a constant state of bliss. They were kind of succeeding at that already, really. Even just the feelings of  _ concerngoodhelp _ and  _ minemineminemycitizen _ were settling into the shared connection between Alfred and America, calming him down a lot. “Do you need help? If it’s an abusive relationship, there are a bunch of people around here you could ask for help, and you could get a restraining order if it’s particularly bad…”

A broken laugh tumbled out of his mouth despite himself, finding amusement in this horrid situation. He pulled down the phone from his ear, still hearing Arthur’s confused shouting due to the volume the other nation was practically screaming his confusion at. And from the look on that woman’s face, she could hear his voice too.

“It’s more of a friendship-turned-sour,” he explained himself once he could get words out of his mouth without breaking down. “They all just… only keep me around for the money and benefits. I… they don’t like how I act normally, I guess. I’m just—too cheerful most of the time for them.  _ Obnoxious _ is how they call it.”

“Sounds to me like they’re all assholes,” his citizen replied bluntly, taking his free hand in her own gently. “You sound like a perfectly respectable gentleman to me. Everyone needs a little cheer in their lives, and those who can’t see that are just too old and bigoted for their own good, hun.”

He smiled a small, more real smile at her words, already starting to feel much better about himself. His citizens always knew how to cheer him up—

But then a particularly loud “ _ Alfred! _ ” emerged from the phone, breaking through the moment and replacing it with the previous tension underlying in his body. Both of their gazes were drawn down to the phone currently being clutched in Alfred’s other hand.

His citizen was immensely kind, however.

“Do you want to answer that, or do you want me to talk to him for you, hun?” her deathly cold green eyes drifted from their piercing stare at the phone back up to Alfred’s eyes, her hand still drawing comforting patterns on the back of Alfred’s other hand. “I have experience with talking to assholes, so don’t worry about me. I can get ‘em off your back real quick if you want me to, darling.”

Alfred hesitated for a moment. He prodded around for that slight connection between Alfred and America, following it and swimming through the tangled strands to find the single one that tied him to this woman in front of him. He didn’t do this that often, but it helped that they were right next to each other, even holding hands. Pausing for a moment as he found it, he wondered if he even wanted to know.

But he did, so… 

Following the string to its end, he let himself fall into that connection between the two of them, allowing himself to graze the bare minimum information about this woman’s life.

_ Charlotte ‘Ace’ Jeanne Taylor, barista by day, waitress by night, parents are both lawyers, married to a gang leader, enjoys taking his latest victims and experimenting with new recipes from them… dangerous, protective, kind _ —

Alfred nodded and held up the phone to her, his concerns soothed as more feelings of  _ calmcalmgoodcalm _ and _ mycitizennoharmmine _ comforted his nerves. So what if she was a part of the underground? She was still his citizen, and she wouldn’t harm him knowingly. Probably.

She smiled reassuringly at him and squeezed his hand, taking the phone in her other hand and holding it up to her ear easily, not breaking eye contact with Alfred. Huh. Well, it did make him calmer, so who was he to question her methods?

“I’m sorry, but I think you need to stop talking about right now,” she spoke firmly into the phone, face still relaxed despite her strong-as-steel tone. “The young man who you’re harassing right now doesn’t want to speak with you, as your  _ oh-so-kind _ behavior toward him has indicated that you are a dipshit asshole who has no idea what  _ boundaries _ are, given how you’re still trying to talk with him. He is  _ not _ interested in talking to you, and if you keep up the way you are right now without thinking anything through, you won’t be  _ able _ to talk to him for a while. So, kindly fuck off, or as you would say I suppose, given your accent,  _ sod off. _ ” With that, she pulled the phone away from her ear and tapped the ‘end call’ button decisively before swiping around his phone for who-knows-what reason.

He didn’t ask.

_ She was his citizen. She helped him. She cares about him. She was hishishis and she wouldn’t harm him, not like how all the other nations seemed like they wanted to. She was his citizen. She was  _ his _ citizen. Hishishishiscitizen. She was his _ —

His phone was pressed back into his free hand gently, the other being squeezed comfortingly. He blinked the remains of the blurriness out of his eyes, looking at her, lost as to what was going on. She smiled encouragingly at him.

“I put my number into your phone and sent myself a text,” she explained softly, as if he could break at any moment. Maybe he would. “I live in New York City, so anytime you find yourself there, feel free to find me. Or anytime you need to chat, just shoot me a text or call me. And if your so-called friends try and harass you again, just let me know, okay?”

Alfred nodded slowly, thankful that his citizens were so caring and nice. Thankful that he didn’t have to hate them—thankful that he didn’t have to hate himself. He didn’t like hating himself. It didn’t solve anything. It just made him spiral down and down and down even more… how had he not fallen this far before?

Which just brought him back to his original objective. He had to get to his Boss and—it was only about a two hour drive to the White House from here and he just had to—who should he hit first? Maybe he should grab Canada and Mexico first, start from there, and take over the continent he was on first, and then—but would his Boss listen to him? How could he—he should thank the lady before leaving, she was nice—his Boss had to listen to him, had to had to  _ had to _ —and he was so glad she was his citizen, his citizen,  _ his _ citizen—and if his Boss didn’t listen—

“Do you have anyone waiting for you, hun?” Charlotte asked him carefully, still sitting in front of him with his hand in hers, soothing patterns drawn into the flawless, yet still wan skin there. The almost-motherly concern wafted off of her to such an extent that Alfred would be able to feel it even without that thin connection that was provided by America. “I don’t think you should be alone right now. Do you want to wait with us for whoever is going to pick you up?”

He must’ve nodded or something, since she smiled encouragingly at him and guided him and his luggage over to her friends—well, maybe-husband and friends. He thought this was probably her husband? Probably. He couldn’t quite tell at the moment. Maybe he could…—no. Yes? No—yes yes no? Fuck. He didn’t like relying on that instinctual intrinsic thread between America and his citizens, but… could he trust them? Could he trust them, trust them like his trust was always broken before, shattered, on the floor, in pieces, ugly ugly stupid fat American why are you so loud and stupid just say something that makes sense for once you lazy piece of shit capitalist pig what are you doing with your life I didn’t raise you to be like this I’m so disappointed if you have nothing useful to say then just sit down America America America America America Amer—

“Alfred?” Charlotte broke him out of his slowly spiraling down mind with remarkable ease, unlike all the  _ others _ who had tried, those stupid nations who didn’t understand anything… “Alfred, are you listening to me? You need to calm down. Take deep breaths, listen to me. You’re going to be okay, hun, you got that?”

Alfred glanced back up at his kind citizen, just now noticing that his fingernails were digging under his skin and drawing blood, letting it trickle slowly in rivulets across his palm and over his wrist and down his forearm, beautiful pretty bloody art, what the other nations would look like when he saved them from themselves, taken away the stress of having to choose… they surely would appreciate it. Besides, they seemed to rely on him for so many things already, screaming at him when things don't go their way, so if they were to act like children, then he had to act like a responsible adult and lock them up until their tantrum ended, right? So they could never leave never leave never leave never leave never leave never leave him no no no they couldn’t please no just stop don’t go away Arthur please he didn’t mean it that hurts no don’t that burns why the capital was it for Matthew of course it was don’t leave—!

He unclenched his fingers and carelessly wiped the blood onto his pants. Not like they were fully clean, being on an airplane for several hours after all, and not like they would be clean anytime soon…

He had work to do.

“Thanks,” Alfred mumbled through cotton at what had to be his bestest citizen ever to grace this horrible wretch called planet Earth. Maybe besides Washington. Washington was pretty cool. Well, Lincoln was rad as well, he guessed… and maybe—well, that was beside the point. Charlotte was one of his damn best citizens currently probably hopefully maybe? No. No second guessing himself. He had to be strong if he was going to take care of the rest of the nations and make sure nothing else harmed them and  _ they couldn’t harm him  _ ** _ever_ ** .

Never.

“It’s no problem, darling,” Charlotte passed a hand through his hair affectionately, somehow managing to avoid Nantucket without making it awkward. Because if she didn’t avoid Nantucket, it would be awkward. Very. Awkward. Indeed.

(Hello Florida. Yes, you exist. Please don’t barge in on his meetings, they were very important.)

The minutes managed to pass as time began to flow normally once more. The other civilians in the airport kept an eye on the poor young man who had been harassed by his horrible friends, but they trusted the responsible-looking woman and her family to cheer the guy up. Minutes blended into an hour, which melded into two, bleeding carelessly over into the third before the young man’s phone buzzed once more. Those who remained were immediately on alert, carefully keeping an eye on that young man who they all cared very dearly about, feeling an irreplaceable attachment to the American boy in their midst.  _ He should be cheery, _ their minds insisted.  _ He shouldn’t look so glum! _

(The Canadian person who had entered the seating area about an hour ago just looked at them like they were all crazy and left. Dumbass probably didn’t understand.)

Their collective breath hitched as the poor young man looked down at his phone. It was let out in a soft sigh when he just gave his companions a half-grin and some small explanation that his ride was finally here. The nice woman gave him a cheery smile and a hug, doing what they all wished they were brave enough to, reminding the young man that he could call or message her at any time, for  _ anything. _

The young man just gave a more real smile instead of the tired and defeated one from earlier, stood up and accepted the hug, and left with a small pep in his step that wasn’t there before. The small gathering in the seating area behind him dispersed as everyone realized that the young man wouldn’t need any more potential support at the moment, due to him not being there anymore.

That young man was the United States of America, but currently, he was Alfred F. Jones, and he was on a mission to show his Boss just what his country had in store for the other nations.


	2. ex cathedra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were still many more roadblocks to face if this plan was to go through. But how far would he go, how _much_ would he give away for this...?
> 
> Everything. He knew the answer was everything.
> 
> (It had always been so, after all.)

“ _ What the fuck, Alfred. _ ”

Alfred blinked up at his ceiling as the voice in his head decided to pipe up. Wait, which voice wanted to speak this time? Was it his yes-I’m-probably-legitimately-insane voice? Or was it the no-I-actually-exist-shut-up-Alfred-you-dick voice? Was he hearing things again? Or—

“ _ Oh my fuckin’ God, Alfred, I leave for  _ three fucking days _ and you’ve already hit the tipping point. You could’ve had the patience to wait for me, you asshole! You know how much I wanna see your fuckin’ England burn like we did those damn witches in Salem. _ ”

Oh. It was Allen.

“ _ Yeah. ‘Sup, bitches, I’ve returned. Now buckle up, asshat, and get your shit together if you wanna go through with your fuckin’ plan of world domination. _ ”

“Welcome home, Allen,” Alfred mumbled into thin air as he fumbled around to shove Texas back onto the bridge of his nose where it rightfully belonged. Damn thing thought that just because it was a Republic and fought in the Civil War or some shit that it could try and dupe him out in the mornings. Nope, bitch, Texas ain’t escaping this morning, nor any other mornings. He kinda needed ‘em to see. Kinda. “I met one of the citizens on your side of the spectrum yesterday, kinda. Like Oliver. She was nice, though. I like her. Should I call her and let her help with this world domination thingy? She’s our citizen and she’s really nice, she’d understand, right?”

“ _ You’re delusional from lack of sleep, asshole. Texas isn’t trying to secede just because you can’t find it in the morning. And you can’t just tell random civilians who you are just ‘cause they’re nice to you. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how am  _ I  _ the reasonable one…? I’m supposed to be the one urging you to kill everyone. This is fuckin’ messed up. _ ”

“Tell me ‘bout it,” Alfred huffed a sad excuse for a laugh as he swung his legs off the bed, trudging along to the bathroom while gathering his clothes up. Sometimes, he really hated that he was a morning shower person. Why did he resign himself to this fate again? Oh yeah, because he liked to torture himself under the warm water with his bitch-buddy bitching in his ear like the bitching dude he was. Bitch. “I mean that affectionately,” he uselessly explained out loud, already knowing that his practically-soulmate understood what he was saying.

“ _ Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say, dipshit. Now go take your fuckin’ shower and sing those stupid ass country songs in peace. I’m gonna go so my eardrums don’t start bleeding due to my brain imploding from having to listen to that damn fuckin’ song  _ again. _ Why don’t you ever sing a new one? It’s been this one ever since it came out! Fourty- _ fucking _ -eight years of the same song is enough, alright? _ ”

“You just don’t understand the beautiful wonders of John Denver!” Alfred mourned his counterpart’s clearly tasteless choice in records to listen to. “Country Roads is a perfectly good song! I don’t understand why you don’t like it!”

“ _ Try listening to the fuckin’ dumbass in your head singing the song over and over again in the shower every single fuckin’ day for fourty-eight years straight! And  _ off-key _ and  _ proud _ about it! _ ”

Alfred winced as an incoherent screech of frustration pierced his eardrums and set his head to throb slightly with each step he took toward the shower door. Ouch.

“ _ Since you’re obviously just going to sing that fuckin’ song again, I’m gonna leave for the next hour or so. Gotta get some work over here done. Ciao, bitch. _ ”

“Seeya, dude,” Alfred grinned briefly before hanging the towel over the shower door and getting down to business. As in, taking that damn shower and singing that beautiful as all fuck song. No matter what Allen said, that song was just  _ gold. _ “He just doesn’t appreciate true art,” he mumbled to himself under his breath.

Despite the sheer volume he was singing the song at, his thoughts still drifted as he washed himself. Would he succeed in convincing his Boss that this was the best thing for America? What would he do if he couldn’t? His conviction on this would just… fade. Gone. Fwoosh.

Honestly, to him, that was much more terrifying than having to endure more of the abuse heaped upon him by the other nations—having to endure that abuse  _ without understanding why he wanted to change it. _ Sure, he would comprehend the reasons behind it, but… he wouldn’t truly understand or feel towards it.

After all, in America, everyone had the freedom of expression except for one person…

The United States of America himself.

(He was such a hypocrite sometimes. Oh well, just another reason to hate himself… freedom, huh? Hard to have that when you weren’t supposed to have free will or thoughts or  _ emotions _ yourself. How can a land mass have emotions…? Easy.

_ They shouldn’t. _ )

Just as he was finishing getting dressed, that familiar feeling in his head returned, signifying the return of Allen to their shared mindspace. It was comforting, knowing that he was never truly alone. Well, when he put it  _ that _ way, it kinda sounds creepy, but… oh well. They both knew what he meant. It was comforting to never have to suffer on his own, that somebody would always have his back. Comprehensive enough?

“ _ Clear as fucking crystal, dumbass. No need to elaborate your statements when we’re the only ones hearin’ ‘em. No point in harming your brain by trying to rub one brain cell together when everyone knows you at least need two to do that. _ ”

“Aww, that warms my heart to hear you say that,” Alfred snickered immaturely as he pulled his signature bomber jacket on. One that he hadn’t worn in a while—he had stuck to hoodies after everyone decided that abandoning him was the new world policy. They were more comfortable anyway, and if nobody would even pay  _ attention _ to him, then he might as well say fuck all and do what he wanted. “It almost sounds like you actually  _ care _ about me!”

“ _ Oh, shut up and just get to your fuckin’ Boss already. Damn, sometimes I wish I had your Boss, he’d be much easier to fuckin’ mess around with and boss instead of him bossin’ me. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, they all think they  _ own _ us or somethin’. Fuckin’ stupid idiots, that’s who they are. I really did enjoy killin’ the last one, did I tell you about that yet? His spine made such satisfying crunching sounds whenever I hit ‘em like playin’ a damn xylophone or someth _ —”

“Oi, oi, oi, dude,  _ bruh _ ,” Alfred interrupted quickly, barely refraining from waving his hands everywhere like a lunatic as he tried to stop Allen from detailing every last gory bit of how he murdered his last Boss. As he spoke aloud, he only just remembered to grab a bluetooth from a random drawer and slip it over his ear so he didn’t have anyone stop him randomly and ask him if he needed to see a psychiatrist. He gathered up his breath as he left his room. “First of all, you’ve already told me that story plenty of times—too many, if you ask me. Just because I’ve broken this far doesn’t mean I wanna hear random stories like you killi—” Remembering that he was in public, he cut himself off and glanced around the hallways for anyone that might’ve caught his slip. Nobody. “Like those,” he finished lamely instead, shrugging it off. “And second of all, just because I’ve snapped to this point doesn’t mean that I’m gonna follow in your footsteps like that. I’m only making sure that my friends don’t leave me, alright?”

“ _ Sure, sure, yeah, yeah, whatever you say. It starts like this, and then you’re not gonna allow them to do their personal things anymore. And then they’ll start to rebel, so you’ll get mad and tighten the security and rules, which’ll make ‘em rebel more. Endless cycle, right? Well, endless  _ until _ one of you snaps. Probably you first, honestly, you fuckin’ batshit crazy numbskull. And then what you’re gonna do is make ‘em stay with you _ —permanently.”

“Isn’t that what I’m already doing?” Alfred asked in confusion, fishing around in his pockets to find his keycard to open the outside security door. “That’s kinda the plan, dude. Well, besides from the whole rebelling and tightening and rebelling part, but yeah.”

“ _ Ha! Yeah right. Jeez, sometimes I forget how dense you really are. _ ”

Before Alfred could even formulate a retort to that other than bristling in offense, Allen bulldozed over his potential response.

“ _ Permanent ain’t gonna  _ be _ permanent unless you make it so. And if they don’t wanna stay, there’s only two ways you can make ‘em stay: brainwash ‘em into wanting to stay, or kill ‘em. I can already imagine which one you’re gonna go through with. _ ”

“Dude!” Alfred yelped, almost fumbling with his keycard as he finally succeeded in pushing it into the slot. The door opened and he stumbled through it, shoving the card haphazardly into his pants pocket. Hopefully this wasn’t the pair that had that hole in the bottom of the pockets. Allen thought it was funny to do that when he was drunk.

(And  _ only _ when he was drunk. Dude, get a fucking hobby that wasn’t cutting holes in pockets when blackout drunk. It was stupid.)

“ _ What? You can’t say you weren’t thinkin’ ‘bout it. _ ”

“Dude, just, no,” Alfred protested quite elegantly. Or not. “That’s—that first one isn’t even true! Well,  _ neither _ of them are true, but—I! It’s not brainwa— _ that _ if they actually want to stay once I show them everything! And…” he glanced around cautiously to see the courtyard was completely devoid of any other intelligent life. “I wouldn’t do  _ that, _ dude. That’s more  _ your _ territory.”

“ _ Suuuuure. That’s what they  _ all _ say. _ ”

Before Alfred could protest even more, Allen bulldozed over his complaints.

“ _ Anyway, I’d love to mirror you over here in my world, but there’s no fuckin’ way I could catch any of these bitches off guard, no matter how much I’d like to. So, I guess I’ll just have to live vicariously through you. I hope you don’t mind me comin’ out to play once in a while over there? Freak out the pussies hangin’ ‘round you? _ ”

Actually… Allen would be a pretty damn good ally to have in this. Alfred couldn’t do all of this alone, no matter how much he wanted to… to do this so he can revel in the looks on the rest of the nations’ faces, realize that America, who they treated so poorly and  _ ignored _ and blew off all the time—that America could  _ conquer _ them.

But for all he  _ yearned _ to do that— _ wantedwantedwantedsomuch _ —he knew the logical decision was to go about this stealthily, strike from within, make them think that they  _ knew _ who the enemy was, and only reveal just who was behind it all at the very end of everything. Yeah… that… that would be…

_ Fun, _ if he was going to be honest with himself.

“ _ Honesty is typically the best policy. _ ”

Oh, and Allen too. He would have to get used to sharing more than he typically would with his counterpart, seeing as they were to be partners in this endeavor. Well… he already shared a shit ton more with his partner than he normally would if he weren’t so  _ depressed _ due to the other nations’ shit, but at least it would all pay off. At least Allen wouldn’t betray him. At least Allen  _ understood _ him.

“ _ Who better to understand you than yourself, you fuckin’ idiot? Plus, to betray you on this shit would practically be betrayin’  _ me _ with this. C’mon, if we’re gonna be workin’ on this together, you gotta trust me a bit more than you usually do. _ ”

Even more than now?

“ _ Even more than now. _ ”

Of course. Well… he’d already come this far, so… what was a little more? A little more trust, let Allen know what he thought more often, let his counterpart  _ in _ further than usual… let him roam a bit on his own.

As long as he stuck to the plan.

“ _ Sure. S’long as I get some input as well. It’d be  _ way _ too boring if you have all the fun—if I’m helpin’, then I get to say what I’m doin’ in the plan. _ ”

“To a reasonable extent,” Alfred opened the door on the opposite end of the courtyard, having taken his time meandering down the paths to get to it. Gah… just  _ thinking _ about it, how in the fresh Hell was he going to get his Boss to agree to this? “After all, we  _ do _ need to stick to a plan once we find one that works. Improvisation may be needed, but we can’t just make something up without at the very least informing the other… there’d be no continuity or coherency if we didn’t. Speaking of, what  _ is _ the plan going to be?”

“ _ Yeah, makes sense. And we’d have to start off by takin’ over those who aren’t surrounding us, not what you were thinkin’ earlier, y’know. Dipshit, if we begin by kidnappin’ all those around us without  _ you _ gettin’ the same treatment, it’d be really fuckin’ suspicious now, wouldn’t it? _ ”

“So… we would start off across the ocean, I guess?” Alfred questioned with barely any hesitation. They deserved what was coming at them, after all. “And then circle there for a while before spreading elsewhere?”

“ _ Exactly. You could pin the blame on somebody over there as well, if you’d like to. Just get the ones around that one nation, neighborin’ ‘em, ‘cetera, an’ then let the pansies blame ‘em, so we can operate a lil while when they think they have who did it. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, ‘aight? _ ”

“Yeah…” Alfred agreed slowly, deciding to take the stairs instead of the elevator. What would Arth—England think if he saw him now…

He decided he didn’t want to think about that.

“ _ An’ don’t worry ‘bout your lil Boss. Just lemme through the next mirror you see and you won’t have a problem with ‘em. _ ”

Alfred blinked. “O… kay?”

Faith. He ignored the cracking and broken wheezes coming from the room as he left Allen alone with his Boss.  _ Faith. _ He wasn’t alone.

He would never be alone.


End file.
